Everything is over and my presence resonates with an unfathomably cavernous echo. In the confines of the horizon, suffering the birth of uncertainty, hopes fall one by one. My body is susceptible to pain that clings to death, but my spirit is magnetized with disappearance. All my energy is transformed into blackness, and the endings of my mind like ramifications rise towards the confines of the night that will not be transformed. Renunciation condensed in a capsule of hate is the path that everything that shines has traced in this blunt instrument. It is my body susceptible to pain that clings to death, but my spirit is magnetized with the disappearance (with the embrace of darkness). The breath of my limits settles in the atmosphere with a plaintive sound and at the same time full of joy. The disintegration was never really partial. My Spirit full of pain overflows and the bowels of the world. In the confines of the horizon, suffering the birth of uncertainty, hopes fell one by one. This hungry eagle has a thousand names, a thousand identities and constitutes the eternal punishment and suffering from which my tears flow, my blood has dyed the rock and the chains, and yet I wait for it. My body has let death go and my spirit, magnetized with existence, breaks the chains with its wings, to dive into the depths of the air to hunt her.
